I Can't Get No Satisfaction
by Meg F
Summary: Xander has a problem. A cookie-related problem.


Xander looked down at the cookie on the floor. There was a tiny piece of lint on one side, which was deformed slightly from the impact on the floor. Crumbs littered the immediate area, and a chocolate chip had made its bid for freedom. . . but it still looked good.

"Don't even think about it, Harris," Buffy warned as she plopped down next to him at the cafeteria table. "Five second rule. That's been down there at least twenty seconds. I guess that's just the way the cookie crumbles."

Stifling a groan, he noticed she still had two thirds of her cookie left. "Um, Buff-" he began.

She followed his eyes to her hand. "Sorry, I'm starving. Gotta keep the Slayer strength up!" she said brightly, then raised her hand quickly to her mouth. She licked the fragment.

Xander grabbed her wrist. "You think that's gonna stop me? Men would kill to share your spit, woman! I can think of no greater prize than the combination of Slayer spit and Slayer cookie!" He paused for a moment to stick his chin out and dramatically stare off into the distance.

Which was, of course, when Buffy made her move.

She upended him on top of Larry, who had been sitting quietly at the next table eating his lunch. Larry looked down at Xander's head in his lap and remarked, "Never knew you cared so much."

Xander struggled upright, trying not to touch Larry's legs or arms or anywhere similarly incendiary, while Larry watched him with one eyebrow raised. "Take your time."

"Sorry, man," Xander muttered, "but you could move a muscle to help, y'know." 

Larry patted him on the shoulder. "You don't wanna know about my muscle moving."

The blood drained from Xander's face. "Um, yeah, you're probably right," he said, ever so smoothly. He looked up to see Buffy standing behind Larry, laughing at him. Slowly, she produced the remains of her cookie from her pocket and shoved it into her mouth, chewing with a big grin.

"What did you do to her, anyway?"

"My cookie fell. I asked if I could have some of hers."

"Oh well," Larry said in mock sympathy. "That's the way the cookie crumbles."

"Yeah, thanks." Xander sat down again at the table and looked at what was left of his lunch. The peanut butter and jelly sandwich was gone, all gone, down into his gut where it would make funny noises to entertain him during Math. The milk container was empty. He still had half of his apple left, but an apple? - enh. Just not the same.

"See ya in class," Buffy waved. Xander waved back, half-heartedly, cleared up his detritus, and left, heading to his locker.

On the way there, he spied Willow through the library window. "Will will cheer me up," he said to himself as he pushed the doors open, then he chuckled. "Will will."

"Will will what?" Willow asked without looking up from her book. She had her feet up on the table, which told him Giles wasn't anywhere in sight. Today she was wearing short, purple overalls with pink tights, and bright blue boots.

"Will will be nice to me?" Xander said.

She looked at him, finally. "I suppose," she sighed in mock indignation. "You wanna borrow my Math homework, right?"

Xander's eyes widened. There, on the table, carelessly placed next to a book - a book! as if it deserved to be next to a book! - was a cookie.

An enormous, untouched, chocolate chip cookie. He felt himself starting to drool a little. "No. No, fair maid, I do not. What I desire most is. . ."

Willow followed his eyes. "The cookie? Oh, you can have it. I'm full." She picked it up and tossed it to him. 

His eyes followed its arching path through the air to his hands-

He dropped it.

He dropped the freakin' cookie on the floor he had it right in his hands but he DROPPED IT. He screamed.

Willow leapt to her feet and put an arm around him, as they both stared at the cookie. It was covered in dust, and little crumbs had ricocheted off the legs of Willow's seat. Xander was still screaming. Willow shook her head. "I guess that's the way the cookie-"

He clapped a hand over her mouth, still screaming. Then he stopped. Took a deep breath.

He crouched swiftly, grabbed the cookie, rubbed it against his pants leg, and stuffed the whole damn thing into his mouth.

"Better?" Willow asked.

"Mufft butter," he said, spraying crumbs.


End file.
